


The Wife's Place

by Karin (Karinpon)



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Anal, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Ruki, Boys' Love, Cooking, Crossdressing, Fishnets, Gay Sex, High Heels, Japanese Character(s), Latex, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, M/M, Maids, Master/Servant, Middle-aged, One Shot, Oral Sex, Ruki is a Bitch, Same-Sex Marriage, Smegma, Visual Kei, Yaoi, fed a condom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 08:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8198305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karinpon/pseuds/Karin
Summary: Uruha has treated Ruki like a bitch ever since they got married. Ruki loves it.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sexsuna (Junna)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Sexsuna+%28Junna%29).



The wedding had been splendid, if a bit empty. The majority of invitation recipients had not shown up, which was understandable given the popular attitude towards same-sex marriage—an attitude less and less present in Japan, yet still holding sway over people’s decisions, whether it had any bearing on the law or not.

The honeymoon had been almost immediate; and though a month had passed, that wedding dress still needed a wash. Ruki loved being fucked in it, but Uruha had his tastes, and those were law. And no expense was spared.

Now, as he tidied up their shared flat, hoping to be done before the man returned, he donned a cute maid uniform made entirely of latex, with nylon stockings, garters, and a pair of knee-high boots with platforms and five-inch heels. The boots were also of latex, black to match the prominent colour of the uniform, and fastened with buckles, which may have been somewhat of a contrast, but Ruki felt real sexy in the whole getup, and it was the latest thing his husband had bought for him to wear.

The pleated skirt of the outfit barely covered his butt when he _wasn’t_ bending over to pick up rubbish or scrub a stain off the floor. And Ruki hadn’t brought any of his underwear with him to the flat yet; he couldn’t see the point of even wearing any, when for the past couple of weeks he had just been staying here, enjoying himself as he waited for Uruha to return from some session or support gig, humiliate him, and make it up to him with a good, hard fucking.

It was Ruki’s life now, and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

But the man tended to grant him some extra privileges when he came back to a clean home. Because such extras were quite sought after, Ruki had to be quick and thorough with his cleaning, and maybe even start dinner. Just in case he couldn’t work fast enough, he made sure to leave a used condom to pick up within view from the doorway: either he would have dinner started, or Uruha would come home to a delightful view of his arse. That had to be worth something.

His cock got hard just thinking about it, but he resisted the urge to play with himself. In truth, at ten past four in the afternoon, Uruha was a little late, and Ruki realised he’d been slower than he thought since waking from his nap. So he washed his hands in the kitchen, and set about cooking rice—the easiest thing after ramen. He got out a saucepan, poured in the water, prepared the correct proportion of rice, and turned on the stove.

Then he heard the door open, and shut. He turned to greet his husband.

“Welcome home, master,” he said, bowing. It was fun to roleplay, and here it wasn’t far from reality. “I have begun preparing dinner.”

Uruha removed his sunglasses, set down his guitar and a shopping bag, and bent over to pick something else up off the floor. Ruki’s heart sank when he remembered what he’d forgot; a clever ploy now his downfall.

“Oi, Ruki-chan. I found a used condom on the floor.” He walked into the kitchen, holding it out towards him. “If you eat it, the consequences will be more to your liking.” Suddenly, he pressed the crumpled, rubber, slimy thing against Ruki’s lips, which gave way without a second thought. Uruha pushed the used condom back along his tongue, and Ruki had to swallow before the fingers would withdraw from his mouth. It went down easily enough, like swallowing a wad of bubblegum that had been left out to dry. Perhaps more sanitary than that. He couldn’t even remember whose semen was in it.

“Good bitch,” Uruha continued, pocketing his sunglasses and reaching down under Ruki’s skirt, groping his length. “You’re pretty excited, as usual. Get dinner under way. I have to change out of these shabby threads.”

First giving Ruki’s erection a little smack this way and that, Uruha withdrew his hand and left the kitchen. Ruki turned to watch the pot of water, waiting, of all things, for it to boil. He hoped Uruha would take his time—it wouldn’t do to be snatched away at this stage of the cooking process. I wonder, he thought, what extravagant finery Uru-sama will outfit himself in this time. Usually latex made up a large part of it; the man had built up an enormous wardrobe of rubber clothing since the band got big. He’d often complained about not having time to wear any of it, touring around the world. But all that was well behind them now.

The two of them were going on fifty. Not that it mattered. They still had their looks, and with each other were having better sex than either’d had in his twenties. There are gates to sexual wonderlands which can only be seen by those who are sufficiently jaded, if not born with the gift.

The water began to boil over. Hurriedly, Ruki lowered the heat, poured in the rice, and covered it with a lid.

But Uruha still hadn’t come to get him. His patience wearing thin, Ruki made the decision to leave his station in search. Pure anticipation could only keep his cock up for so long.

And as he came into the living room, he laid eyes on Uruha, seated on the sofa in front of the coffee table, legs spread, cock in hand. He wore an elaborate dress with frills at the sleeveless shoulders, a high collar, an elliptical window to his smooth chest, and a pleated skirt shorter at the front than at the back, laying bare his well-trimmed pubic area and the garters which, running along his slightly muscular yet supple thighs, held up a pair of fishnet stockings he had to match his fishnet gloves—all this, save the fishnets, being made of black latex with hidden zips, including his knee-boots with their platforms and high heels, of a simpler design than Ruki’s but essentially the same.

Uruha was his master, but also his princess, when the mood was right.

“Ruki-chan,” he said, “a bitch like you gets really excited just sniffing a cock, huh? I need you to get real hard taking your punishment, then you can have a reward.”

Kneeling on the floor before the sofa, situating himself between his husband’s knees, Ruki watched as the hand gave way for his head. Uruha was only a little bigger than him, but his foreskin was longer, and he never cleaned inside, just to give Ruki tasks to do. He probably viewed it as punishment, but Ruki enjoyed it immensely. He pressed his lips to the prepuce and teased it with his tongue, eliciting a tiny, breathy moan. Uruha was also the more sensitive of the two, so Ruki always took care not to make him come too early—rushing things would end in disappointment, and less appealing punishments, like cleaning the toilet.

He pinched the tip and kissed along the shaft, letting his tongue out when his mouth reached Uruha’s sparsely haired balls. Sweaty after being confined in Uruha’s jeans all day, it all smelled and tasted strongly and excited him, bitch that he was. He sucked scrotum, and fingers became entangled in his straight, black hair. Uruha grew harder in his grasp as his tongue juggled the man’s smelly, tasty balls. With his free hand, Ruki reached under his own skirt and ministered the rigid thing he found there.

Then he pulled back Uruha’s foreskin all the way, and started to wash under it with his tongue, eliciting another moan. He swallowed all the faintly piss-tasting crud he lapped up like a dog; this loving act made his heart beat rapidly.

“H-how is it, Ruki-chan? How is your dick?”

With a final swallow, Ruki answered, “It’s hard and pounding in my hand.”

“Ah, let me see. Stand up.”

Getting off his knees, Ruki lifted the front of his skirt, providing his husband full view of his throbbing cock and middling pair of balls, which he kept immaculately shaved. Grabbing hold of the shaft, Uruha turned it this way and that in appraisal and licked his plump, well-shaped lips, which he’d painted a glossy purple as he sometimes did to give Ruki rebellious thoughts. This time, his mouth looked extra fuckable just to reward him. Uruha planted a kiss on the tip of Ruki’s cock, and his tongue extended to follow it up with a swirl around his glans, sending a shock through his spine.

It was all he could do to keep from coming right then. But with the beginning out of the way, he could hold out quite well. He sighed lustily, half intentional; Uruha giggled and closed his lips around the shaft as his tongue worked. Sliding his palm down to Ruki’s balls, he fondled them while he sucked his cock, his other hand squeezing and tugging at Ruki’s buttocks. At this point, Ruki could do nothing but enjoy these sensations, and the sight of master’s pretty head at his groin. Uruha brought it into his throat quite unexpectedly, made sounds as if he were going to vomit but managed to hold back and suck like a pro. This is more than I deserve, Ruki thought, shedding a tear or two in silence.

Drawing back, lips still tight around Ruki’s shaft, Uruha sucked ferociously, and he could hold back no more. Ruki felt as if his entire body went into that one ejaculation, and he cried as he spilled his seed in his master’s mouth. Vision blurred, he looked down, and he could swear he saw Uruha’s cheeks puffed out before a big swallow. It was like a dream.

Uruha gasped for breath, but looked unfazed. “Now I’m hard as a steel bar,” he said, leaning back and stroking himself. “We’re almost two of a kind. Almost… but you’re my bitch, aren’t you?”

Nodding, Ruki curtly voiced assent. He could pretty well guess what was in store for him.

“Then sit. Haven’t I trained you? Sit!” Uruha wriggled his erection by the base. A treat for a special kind of dog.

Ruki wasn’t slow to turn around and lift the back of his skirt; he felt Uruha’s hands spreading his buttocks immediately, slipping over to his hips as he lowered himself on the cock. He didn’t need much in the way of lubrication—his anus was eager; not loose, but ready as his lips ever were to hold onto any part of Uruha. It drove in, slowly, dryly, with only a hint of pain; when he felt Uruha’s balls behind his, only then could he rest a second on his lap.

Grasping and pulling back Ruki’s thighs, Uruha began to thrust, using the springiness of the sofa cushion to aid him in his fuck. Ruki ejaculated right away, a small drivel that kept coming as his master’s cock massaged his prostate. Panting, he marvelled at Uruha’s strength and stamina—maybe that was why he was the master, and Ruki just a chubby-arsed bitch to help him enjoy this ugly world.

He was happy to be the one.

When he felt Uruha suddenly tense up and unhand his thighs, Ruki planted his heels on the floor, leaned forward slightly, and grabbed master’s thighs to steady himself; then he gyrated, chomping down with his arsehole, trying to squeeze out every last drop of semen.

“A-ah,” Uruha groaned. “You greedy bitch...” He smacked Ruki’s hip and thrust once more, though he was starting to soften up.

Then Ruki remembered the rice.

“Oh no,” he said, twisting out from between Uruha’s legs. “The food.” He made his way to the kitchen, staggering at first, his thigh tickled by a trickle of semen from his arsehole. But the rice wasn’t even done yet. He put the lid back on the pot, and turned from the stove to see Uruha having joined him in the kitchen, dick hanging limp, suspending a thread of semen that got stuck to his leg at the end.

“Did you mess it up?” he asked.

“Maybe...”


End file.
